A Sherlock Holmes Fanfiction Story
by Mary Katherine Holmes
Summary: A lovely young woman calls for assistance. Holmes falls in love with the young woman. There is a pause in the case when Holmes is brutaly attacked by unknown men. Holmes is totally OOC. Please Review:


Untitled

Caroline Loveless

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable names belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

It was only weeks ago that I saw my friend Holmes ask for his client's hand in marriage. I don't know what made him ask; maybe it was her beauty, her brains, or the fact that she had undergone the same tragedies that he had suffered during childhood, and understood him. Holmes will be so caught up in her that he will forget me. Don't get me wrong, I adore Caroline Marie Loveless, it's just that I….. Well, I don't know, it's just that I feel like I am being pushed out of the picture, with no place to go. I am sure she will be a perfect wife, but I feel I can give a certain type of companionship that she can't give.

Chapter 2

Today is their wedding day. I try to smile as Holmes finishes tying his bow tie and pulls on his jacket. He looks at me with a joyous look in his eyes and a childish grin on his face. At that moment I know that I can never hold a grudge against him, no matter how much I want to. I feel he can read my mind and I am surprised when he says, _"Watson, I will never forget you. Thank you for being so good to me." _His reassuring words sooth me, and I pat him on the back and say, _"Thank you Holmes, Thank you."_

But now let me get to the main part, the mystery. Holmes would kill me (not literally) if he knew I had started at the end instead of at the beginning.

It was a dark and stormy evening, and Holmes and I sit down in front of the blazing fire with tea, when the doorbell rings. Holmes sighs and says to me, "Looks like we are not going to get a break are we?" ''I look back at him, smile and shake my head. At that moment, the door opens and Mrs. Hudson enters the room with her silver tray. Holmes picks up the card and examines it with no more than a glance. "Send her up Mrs. Hudson" he says briskly. With a nod our landlady departs and Holmes disappears into his room.

"I hope I am not interrupting your evening gentlemen" says our visitor ten minutes later. "It is just that I have had a most frightening experience and I thought maybe you could help me."

Holmes smiles at her and says kindly, "Not at all Miss Loveless, tell us how we may assist you." "I deduce it is not financial problems which worries you. You are wealthy, yet you work as a seamstress. Why? Also, you enjoy buying things for children and helping them with their reading. You do volunteer work, obviously as a teacher, teaching mathematics I believe."

"Wonderful Mr. Holmes, wonderful, how did you know? Asks she with delight.

"I am glad you think so, Miss Loveless. As to your question, I observed and gathered conclusions from what I saw. I deduced that it was not your finances, by the expensive materials of your dress and coat. Only the wealthy can afford such luxuries. The fact that you work as a seamstress can be gathered from your the small pricks on the tips of your fingers where the needle has gone through the thimble. The other points can be deduced by the simple observation that you carry a brand new picture book in your satchel, the teaching is deduced from the fact that there is a math book also stuck in your bag, plus numerous papers which I can see contain math equations. "There, does that help?" I watch her closely and notice that when she moves, she winces and bites her lip to stop from crying out. I am immediately concerned, but I almost missed her say, "Very much so sir, thank you. But now I must tell you my real reason for coming, as it is getting late and I hate to take up your time.

As you correctly deduced, I am to a certain point, quite wealthy. My father is ship owner, a mighty successful one in fact. He is well liked by everyone and has no enemies of which I know.

If he does, he never tells me of them. However, lately he has been extremely cautious, as if he was afraid for his life. Because he worries so, he has unfortunately taken to drink. He does it regularly, but lets no one in the community know of it. When he does drinks a home though he—he can be abusive. He knows not his own strength. The worst part is that when he is sober, he can be sweet and apologizes profusely for what he did. Sad thing is, you can never trust him. About a week ago, we had one of his sailors over for dinner, and as you can imagine, my father got into one of his moods. What that sailor witnessed was extremely horrific. Father had been drinking even before the man arrived and continued to do so before, through, and after dinner. That night, my father did his worst. He beat me till I was almost paralyzed.

Here Holmes interrupted, "Did your good sailor not try to save you before hand?"

"He did Mr. Holmes, he did. Unfortunately, my father pushed him away and sent him flying across the room. He threatened him and said that if he tried to help, he would kill him. Well at that, the good sailor backed off, he did as he was ordered, but not before he called the police. When they arrived, my father was arrested and I was taken to hospital. It was only this morning that I was released and my father was released from prison. I am certain that all these actions lead up to the main point. At four this afternoon, a sailor was found dead in his house. You can easily imagine gentlemen, what a shock it was when I found out two hours later, it was the same sailor who had dined at our house just a week before. Of course the police and I suspect my father. On the other hand, we have no definite evidence that he was the one. Therefore, he cannot be charged. I want you, to help me prove my father's guilt before he does anymore harm to other innocent people. There is one other thing that worries me too. Sometimes, late at night, I am woken by voices. They come from the next room and belong to a man. At times, I have heard a numerous voice. Once, I went to look and my father saw me. He took me back to bed and explained that they were friends of his that had agreed to meet him for a meeting. He also said they met at the window as to not disturb me. I agreed with his explanation, but deep down, I knew he was lying. Maybe the two tie in together somehow. At any rate, I beg you to please help me."

Holmes sat thinking for a moment before opening his mouth. What he said was this, "I will of course take up your case. It is certainly intriguing. When may I visit your home and the home of this sailor?"

"My father had told me he plans to go to sea with his next ship, which leaves tomorrow. If you come at half past three, I assure you no one will find out. As for the other, I am not sure. You will have to inquire about this yourself, for I have no authority. I will of course be there to show you around and answer your questions. If you will excuse me now, I must take my leave for I have a long way to go, and the storm will slow it down even more. Besides, it is close to twelve and I am sure you must be tired. Goodnight gentlemen.

As she opened the door, Holmes asked, "What was the name of this sailor, and the name of your estate is?"

"The sailor in question is named Jerry Clark. As to your other inquiry, I live at The Clearwater, in Sussex. There will be a carriage awaiting you when you disembark at the station. The color will be a dark blue one with gold trimmings." With that, the door closed and she was gone.

Chapter 3

The next morning, Holmes and I made our way to Sussex by the 2:20 train. True to her word, a dark blue carriage awaited us when we disembarked. A man in a red coat greeted us with a smile and told us that if we were ready, we could start on our journey. As we rode, our driver told us some of the Clearwater's history. He related information about the family in question, and our supposed murder's occupation. I listened attentively and with an eager mind. My friend on the other hand, had drifted off to sleep. I could even hear him snoring. I smiled and thought to myself, _I will certainly get the goods on Holmes this time._ We didn't have far to go, and in five to ten minutes we had arrived.

I interrupt my story to describe to you an image of this magnificent house in which our client lived. (_Hint: This will be useful later on.)_

We disembarked, and as we walked toward the house, I was taken with surprise at what I saw. The house can only be described in this way. It was a beautiful four story brick mansion, with four chimneys and large bay windows. The drive was circular and maple trees adorned the edges. The shutters were a particularly interesting shade of red and a huge oak door stood between two marble pillars. The grass was green and lush and flowers were planted in neat clumps. However, as I was taking all of this in, my companion was studying a particular part of the structure. I went to where he was standing and closely observed the place that interested him so. At first, I could see nothing, but then I forced myself to look closer. I had made up my mind at the start of the case I would do my very best. Now, as I looked over it a second time, I noticed that in one certain spot where there should have been a brick, there was none. Instead, there was only mortar. I am not sure whether Holmes was thinking the same thing, but in an instant, I thought I had an explanation for it. At that moment, our study of the exterior was cut short by the appearance of our beautiful client.

Chapter 4

"Gentlemen, I am very glad to see you. Everything is splendid, Father has left on his business trip and the maids have the day off. You may search to your heart's content. Now, where would you like to begin?"

"Well" I said before Holmes could even open his mouth, "I personally, would like to have a look at the room at the end of the hall, that is, if you don't care."

"Bravo Watson, bravo!" commented my friend with a smile. "You're getting better at this all the time. Very well, let us go and see what we can find."

"Whose room is this?" I inquired as we set foot in the dimly lit room.

"It is just a spare one Dr. Watson. But, my room is right next to it." She turned toward the windows and opened the shutters, allowing full sunlight to enter. As she turned toward the mirror, she smiled at what she saw. "Ah, Dr. Watson, you are probably wondering why the bedrooms are down here. Here, the smile left her face as she said, "It was because of my mother. She died when I was eighteen, only three years ago. After the tragedy, the rest of the house made my father upset, so we moved everything down here." When she was finished with her explanation, she sat down on the bed, her body suddenly racked violently with sobs. I was about to do something, when I got the biggest surprise of my life. Just as I was going to comfort her, Holmes almost flew across the room, sweeping her into his arms. As they sat there, lost in each other's embrace, he stroked her hair, and rubbed her back, while, rocking her back in forth. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to her forehead and then to her lips. When he held her away, he supported her with his hand and smiled lovingly at her.

Chapter 6

"Wow, that was wonderful" he commented softly. Burying her head in his shoulder, she nodded and whispered in his ear,

"Yes, it was wonderful."

I glanced at my watch and discovered that it was half past five. I smiled and softly left the room.

Chapter 7

Hurrying along the passage to the front door, I stepped outside and went back to the place I had noticed earlier. Being careful as to not disturb anything, I measured the opening with my hand. Suddenly, something popped out at me. In the lower right hand corner, there was a small pile of white powder. Pulling out a small bottle out of my pocket I collected the substance. Before putting it away for further inspection, I sniffed it and immediately recognized it as a type of poison. (Spending lots of time with Holmes forces you to identify many things, poison is one of them). My own deduction took me by surprise. Then an idea hit me maybe poison trading and smuggling was going on here. I was too caught up in my own thoughts to realize someone was calling me.

"Watson, Watson" said a voice in my ear. I jumped in shock and got to my feet. Turning around, I saw Holmes with his arm around his client. "What are you doing Watson? I noticed you leave and I, I mean we followed you. Now, are you going to tell us what is running through your mind?"

"I suppose so" I said with a sigh. "Miss Loveless, how exactly did your sailor friend die?"

She seemed surprised at what I asked but replied, "The doctor said poison. A rare type of poison in fact. Upon breaking down the elements, he said that is was one that would kill instantly after being taken. Also, it can only be found in South Africa. Does that help in anyway?"

Nodding my head, I said, "Looks like we are going to South Africa."

"South Africa?" questioned my shock friend, his whole demeanor changing. "You're not serious, right?"

"Holmes" I said reasonably, "Aren't you the one who always says that we must follow clues before it is too late? If it will help solve this mystery, then yes, we are going, and no complaining, okay."

"Oh, okay, let's get packing. If we are to do this, we must leave immediately."

"What about me Mr. Holmes, may I go too?" "I could be helpful you know."

"My dear Miss Loveless, I am so sorry, but for you to go would be too dangerous. I am afraid you will have to stay behind" said Holmes softly.

"But, Mr. Holmes, please. Please let me go."

"I can't. Now, I think that is all for today, so we must say our goodbyes and be off back to London. If you like, we will come by tomorrow and say goodbye. Okay?"

"Okay Mr. Holmes. See you tomorrow then." Smiling, she waved goodbye as the doctor and the detective climbed in the already prepared carriage and left. She sighed and disappeared.

"Excuse me, excuse me, EXCUSE ME!!" "Thank you. Now, what I have to say is seriously important. I have to say that I am surprised at what occurred next. This is the case, the only case where Sherlock Holmes has not been able to finish one from start to finish. And, now, for all those curious readers who want to know, here is the reason."

Chapter 8

After Holmes and I disembarked at Victoria Station, we hired a cab to take us to Baker Street. We were so caught up in our thoughts, that we didn't even notice a dark, shady, character following us. What happened a few minutes later is still very blurry. Holmes says that it wasn't that big of a deal, but I don't agree with that. I sometimes wonder if he losing it. Anyway, this is how I see it. As we drove along, I questioned Holmes about what he had found in the house. I personally, kept my thoughts to myself. Just as he was about to answer, we felt a jolt and heard the sound of a carriage colliding with another. The door opened and I found myself falling onto a sidewalk among a crowd of people. Then, I heard the sounds of someone cry, "HELP ME WATSON, HELP ME PLEASE."

"HOLMES! HANG ON, I'M COMING!" I cried franticly. I was deeply moved by his outburst. I had never known that my friend was scared of anything. As I ran toward the cries, I mentally slapped myself. _Of course Holmes is scared of things. He is human after all._

Breaking out of the crowd, I spotted the two runaway carriages. As I turned the corner, I saw Holmes crying out the window for help. It wasn't until I looked closer that I noticed another man at the door. I squinted and was shocked. It looked as if he were trying to push Holmes out!

It was then that it happened. As I tried to reach out to help my friend, who had succeeded in maneuvering to the outside, the man who I had seen earlier suddenly pushed my friend off, and Holmes went crashing head first onto the pavement.

Chapter 9

I was beside him in an instant. Bending over him I noticed a large gash in his head. He was bleeding profusely and I immediately tried to stop the blood with both our handkerchiefs. At that moment, a policeman came around the corner and evidently saw me holding Holmes, my shirt covered with blood from his head wound. When he reached me, he called for an ambulance and proceeded to question me. I answered them quickly, for I knew my friend's life was at stake. So wrapped up was I that I didn't hear my name being called at first. Then I heard it the second time. I glanced down at Holmes, who had opened his eyes and was calling feebly, "Watson, please help me. That man…that man….he pushed me off. My head…oh God, my head. I hurt… Watson, are you there?" He stopped and clutched my shirt in his hands. Then, he slipped away from the world into unconsciousness.

Chapter 10

The next morning I found myself sitting in a hospital waiting room. Holmes had been in surgery for at least five hours and I was getting antsy. As I held his head in my hands, reality came crashing down and I remembered why this must have happened. It probably all had to do with the Loveless case. A thought suddenly struck me. If Holmes could not continue the case, then I would have too. Despite my sorrow, a slight smile crept over my face at the prospect of solving a case on my own. A little later, I heard a voice calling me. I sighed and stood up and went to talk to the beckoning doctor.

"Where are they? They should be here by now" said a frustrated Caroline Loveless. Sitting down once more, she took up her sewing. As she worked, she made up her mind. If the doctor and detective didn't show up in ten minutes, she herself would go to London. The minutes passed, and still no sign. Standing up, Caroline picked up her coat and gloves, rang for James; her carriage driver and told him to bring the carriage around. "I am going to London now."

"Of course madam" he said with a nod.

"Thank you James" she said with a smile.

The trip passed quickly and she soon found herself in a cab on her way to an inn.

"Well, miss, I'm surprised that you are not one of the many who have to console the good Doctor Watson."

"Why are people consoling him?"

"Didn't you hear" asked the driver in a puzzled voice, "Mr. Holmes was badly injured the other day."

"Mr. Holmes" she gasped, "no, there has to be a mistake. If it is true, I must go directly to him. Driver, take me to the hospital, immediately."

"Of course miss. I will give you a bit of advice though. I have been to visit the doctor and he is at this moment very fragile, you know, easily cries, may take to drink, or worse."

"Thank you. I will take care."

Ten minutes later, they arrived and she paid her fare, giving him extra for a tip. Smiling, the cab driver drove off, and Caroline entered the hospital. "I would like to see Mr. Holmes please. "

"Does the mourning party know you?" asked the woman with a frown.

"Yes. I was Mr. Holmes' client. This is all my fault and I would like to make amends. Besides, Mr. Holmes and I were very close."

"Very well. Second room on this floor. It will be on your left."

"Thank you." Turning, Caroline nearly flew down the hall.

"Dr. Watson, Dr. Watson, oh there you are, I was worried that I wouldn't find you. I came at once when I heard the news. How is he, what happened?"

"Slow down there my dear before you go crazy. Now, I will answer your questions one at a time. First, Mr. Holmes is badly injured. He was attacked by an unknown man as we were on our way back to Baker Street. The extent of the injuries were a concussion, a loss of a great amount of blood, all leading to a coma, which at this point the doctor cannot help. I hate to say this, but because of what happened, he can no longer work on your case. I however, can and I will. In fact, if you don't mind staying here for awhile, I will go seek Inspector Lestrade's help.

"A concussion! Will he die? Please tell me he won't. I love him so." "This can't be happening" she gasped. "I vow Dr. Watson, that I will do all I can to make amends for what I have gotten you two into" she sobbed pitifully. "I sorry for crying, its just that Mr. Holmes was the one I happened to go to, and now I've gotten him into this. I'm extremely worried about you Doctor. Who knows what someone might try to do to you. Promise me you will be careful, and Inspector Lestrade as well" she begged. "I will stay here and do all I can to help. Please believe me when I say I am ashamed of what has happened. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course my dear. Don't worry, the Inspector and I will be fine. Goodbye now" turning around, he left.

My faithful reader, do you like my account so far? Well if you do, there is a lot more coming. How about we leave Holmes and our beautiful client and take a look at what is going on in the criminal ring at this particular moment. As you know, it is Senor Loveless and his horrible cronies. Enjoy!

Chapter 11

"Excellent work gentlemen. We now have that meddlesome Holmes out of the way. Now, the plan for revenge can continue." As the two cronies were about to walk away, they were stopped by their master saying "Wait, I do have one more question on the topic of clearing people out of the way. Did you take care of the good doctor? I hope you did, because if you haven't, we will all be in danger. Well?" he barked.

"Um Master,"

"What?"

"Horace and I didn't think it was necessary. We think that the doctor will not be able to do anything about it. He will be too divested about what has happened already. He will abandon the case and we can do as we want."

"Wallace" said Senor Loveless, anger rising in his voice "I'm not stupid. Surely you aren't as well. Now, here is the reason I want the doctor cleared out of the way. All of Scotland Yard is behind this Dr. Watson. If, he can get them to participate, then he will ruin all plans. If he is cleared out of the way, he will not be able to ruin everything. Got it?"

"Yes Master" mumbled Wallace.

"Good, now leave me alone. I need to think."

Chapter 12

"Inspector, I wish to have a word with you about a very serious matter. It is concerning Sherlock Holmes' latest case, the Loveless case. Since he himself cannot work on it, I was wondering if maybe you would be willing to work with me on it. I know I'm not the best partner, but I have worked with Holmes and know his methods. Will you, or will you not help me?"

Greetings to my readers. I know I am rambling, but it is important and I can't help it. So, in order to compensate you for your patience I will get to the core. However, I have one more detail which I must add. It is not to long and not to short. Here it is. Enjoy the story!

Chapter 13

Two days later I was sitting in Baker Street trying to get some sleep. I been at the hospital all night and was exhausted. Right as I began to doze, the doorbell rang and I heard footsteps in the hallway. The door opened and Inspector Lestrade walked in.

I'm sorry for bothering you, but I went back to the Yard and started looking up our criminal mastermind. Look what I found" he said holding out a bundle of papers. "Isn't it interesting that there is so much against him. He has committed numerous crimes, some of which he escaped and some he got caught. "

"Yes" I said absently as I flipped through the information. "There are things in here that are horrible. I am sure that his daughter knew nothing about any of these. If she never knew that is the way I will keep it. She must never lay eyes on this. Never. Now, it says here that Senor Loveless owns thirty ships, each of which have different stops. Out of the thirty, there are two which land in South America. That is, if you recall where Miss Loveless, the "damsel in distress" said the poison came from. However, we do not and neither does our client know where her father is going or where the poison is exactly is. The two stops are Johannesburg and Columbia, both of which are major cities. Since we can't be at two places at one time we must split up."

"Very well Doctor, I will gather some of my men and we shall sail in two days. I will even get the boat tickets. Now, goodbye, and take good care of Mr. Holmes."

"Thank you Lestrade, we will" I said with a small, sad smile.

Now, my faithful reader, let go to Holmes and our beautiful damsel in distress.

Chapter 14

"Oh Sherlock" she whispered as she sat by the still form that was Holmes "how I wish you could hear me. I have so much to tell you and now I can't. I do want to tell you that…" sobs rack her body and her thought is lost.

"All passengers on board please boat ready to depart" yelled the first mate as he stood onboard facing the dock. As he said this, we moved to stand together farther down. Nearby, another group, of about twenty stood together watching us closely. As anyone can deduce these men were twenty plainclothes policemen. "Pull up anchor" yelled the mate. As soon as this last order was issued, Inspector Lestrade and I began our trip to South America.

As we started our expedition, the Inspector and I talked strategy. We figured that I would be the one to go to Johannesburg and he would go to Columbia. Once there, we would ask around about Senor Loveless to see whether he had been seen or not.

"Wait a minute Doctor, how exactly you plan on getting information. What if we run into any of his men? They are certainly not going to give us data if they know we are after them. So?"

"Inspector, Inspector, Inspector. You obviously have never worked very long with Sherlock Holmes. One thing that I learned from him is the use of disguises. We are to be smugglers, just like our criminal mastermind and his cronies. I borrowed some of Holmes' disguises. Here is yours" I said handing him a bundle of clothing, "and here, is mine" I finished, pulling out an identical bundle. "Try those on for size."

Chapter 15

Let's go back to where we left off with our client and The Great Detective.

Doctors and nurses and been coming and going regularly checking pulse and blood pressure. I sat there the whole time clasping the hands of the detective who still was in the deep grips of a coma. Only once did I leave when the instead upon changing the dressings. I never leave his bedside, continuing to wonder if the Doctor and Inspector have had any success in finding my father and stopping his tirade of murders. I curse him under my breath thinking that Holmes, my dear sweet Holmes would never have been in this frightening state if father's cronies had ceased to hurt him. During this time alone with the silent, cold, yet handsome detective I have come to develop feelings for him, feelings of love. I know however, that he returns my feelings, for I remember how he held and kissed me just four days ago. In a way, I am grateful; for this predicament. It gives me time to mull over and gather my thoughts. Personally though, I admit it is pure touture to know that you might wake one day and the man you love might be gone forever.


End file.
